Page 14 of Tempted By the Bosshole

Is he really going to?—

The question is still ripping through my thoughts when he kneels between my feet and drags me down the mattress until my ass perches at the edge. I watch, gaping, as he clamps his big hands around my ankles and positions my bare feet on the footboard. Then he shoves my knees wide and surges between with a wolfish grin.

My heart stops. Oh, shit. He’s serious.

The stranger drags his thumb up the front of my soaked thong, wrenching another gasp from me. “I have a feeling you’re going to be one of the sweetest things I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

“Y-you don’t have to…”

“I do. Mistletoe. ’Tis the season and all that.” He cocks his head. “Unless you don’t like someone worshipping your pussy?”

His dark stare demands an answer, and I feel compelled to reply. “Um, I don’t know. I’ve never…”

He raises a sharp brow. “Ever?”

“My ex said going down on me was disgusting.”

The man who’s about to become my only other lover sends me an acidic smile. “You were right to dump his ass. His loss is my gain. Yours, too.”

Those words ping around my brain as he lowers his head and covers the gusset of my panties with his mouth. Through my soaked thong, he bites my flesh softly, his teeth catching the edge of my clit through the cotton. His tongue follows, taking a long swipe up the covered pad of my pussy.

Even with the underwear between us, he makes my body detonate with a flurry of tingles. “Oh!”

He backs away with a growl.

“What’s the matter?” Does he think I’m disgusting, too?

The stranger doesn’t reply, just leaps up, grabs my thong by the waist and yanks it down my legs. Once it’s off, he shoves the cotton scrap in the pocket of his slacks with another sly grin. “I’m not supposed to kiss the mistletoe, but what’s beneath it. Let’s try this again.”

He leans over me, opens his mouth, and drags his tongue through my slit. When he lingers over my most sensitive spot, I slap my palms to the mattress to brace against the pleasure. “Oh, my god!”

With his lips wrapped around my clit, he chuckles. The vibrations, coupled with his touch, melt all hints of my resistance. My body stops obeying me to chase the incredible sensations. My back arches. My hips lift as I twist to get closer. Sweat breaks out across my forehead. My heart jolts and pounds as he methodically unravels me with his tongue. As if that’s not enough, he shoves a pair of blunt fingers inside me and thrusts them into me, slow and hard. As tingles build and I moan, he shifts his digits, curling them up and hitting a mysterious spot that has me gasping and begging.

“That’s it.” He slides his tongue between my slick folds, lingering on my clit with a hum of delight. “That’s my girl. You’re this close to coming for me.”

It’s not a question. He knows. He understands my body better than I do.

“Yes…”

Jen always said I should indulge in self-love more, both to make up for Eric’s lack of prowess and to understand my body. But life in college dorms and living with my ex, who rarely left his apartment, never gave me privacy. If touching myself felt half as good as this stranger driving me to soaring heights, then I’ve definitely been missing out. Eric never made me feel like this. Hell, he never even tried.

Why? If he was supposed to love me, didn’t he want me to feel good? This man whose name I don’t even know has treated me with more care than the douchebag I wasted six years with.

“So close,” he breathes on my needy flesh.

“Yes!”

“Hmm.” He swipes his tongue across my clit again, then backs away with a kiss to each of my inner thighs before he stands.

He’s stopping? “But?—”

“You want to come.” He skims his thumb across my pussy again, giving me enough sensation to stay on the edge, but not enough to topple over. “You will. But I want you to do it on my cock.”

With his gaze fused to mine, he twists the buttons of his dress shirt free, revealing inch after inch of bronzed, hard-bodied man, before he flings the pristine white garment across the room.

Holy shit, he’s a god.

His suit hid big traps, bulging shoulders, hard pecs, biceps as big as my thighs, and ridged abs that I would swear were photoshopped if I couldn’t reach out and touch them.

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